


Loved and Alive

by emmiebee



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Cuddles, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of alcoholism, Not Canon Compliant, Sort Of, Teensy Bit of Angst, This is totally self-indulgent, because booker, book being a disaster bi, but sort of new, he's an oc but i stan him anyway, i am cuddle deficient so i wrote this, i stan marco ok, soft booker, we are sad french boi hours universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:56:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25997872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmiebee/pseuds/emmiebee
Summary: Booker wakes up in the middle of the night and doesn't want to be alone. Marco is a good boyfriend.
Relationships: Booker | Sebastien le Livre/OC
Comments: 1
Kudos: 49





	Loved and Alive

**Author's Note:**

> I had a moment of desperately craving cuddles, so i wrote this. Marco is an OC from my other fic, We Are Sad French Boi Hours, so this is low-key connected to that I guess? I just wanted to write soft Booker and his therapist boyfriend, ok??
> 
> Inspired by the song Loved and Alive by Jim and the Povolos

Sebastien le Livre, called Booker, has never been a particularly good man. He was a forger in his first life (before he realized he was immortal and everything went to shit). He deserted Napoleon’s army, which got him killed the first time. He can be a stubborn asshole, who refuses to acknowledge that he has a problem, or that he has people who love him and want to help. This is why he didn’t end up in therapy until a few months ago, after over two hundred years of misery.

He’s not sure he’ll ever be one hundred percent okay, but he thinks he’s getting better. He hasn’t had a drink in months, and he’s stopped being disappointed when he wakes up after a death. He’s started looking forward to waking up in the morning, too, if only for one main reason: Marco.

Marco Ramirez is an angel. That’s the only possible explanation for how he managed to drop out of nowhere into Booker’s life and kickstart the heart that he had thought would never beat again.

It’s only been a month since they decided to give a relationship a try, but Booker already can’t believe that he managed to live without this man. So that’s the reason that, when he wakes up in the middle of the night due to a vicious nightmare, he immediately goes to the phone to call Marco. 

Alright, if he’s being honest, the first thing he does is go to the safe house’s kitchen, careful not to disturb any of the others, and looks for a drink. After rattling around in cabinets for a minute, he hears an indignant squawk behind him and whirls around, nearly squawking himself out of pure terror. “Jacques.”

The green and yellow parrot is perched on the dining table, watching Booker, head tilted in curiosity. “How the hell did you get out your cage?” Booker mutters, reaching out to ruffle the bird’s feathers. Jacques isn’t allowed out at night, or he will sit on Nicky’s face and open long scratches in his skin, which wakes both Nicky and Joe up and leaves neither of them in a good mood. Booker’s trying to work on Jacques’ hatred of Nicky, but it hasn’t gotten anywhere yet. 

Jacques squawks again, and Booker glances back at the open cabinet. “Shit,” he mutters. “I didn’t even… I didn’t realize what I was doing.”

He sits down heavily at the table, running a hand over his hair. “It was a bad night, Jacques,” he explains. “I… I don’t what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up right then.”

Jacques just stares at him. Booker sighs. “Fuck, I want a drink,” he mutters. “I need to- I need to talk to Marco.” That’s it. That’s what will help. He finds his phone and moves over to the small living room to make the call.

Marco picks up after the first couple of rings. He sounds tired. “Seb? It’s three in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Booker says, suddenly at a loss for words. “I’m- having a bad night.”

Marco seems to wake up a little at that. “I’m on my way.” 

“What?” Booker frowns. “No, you don’t- You don’t need to come over-”

“Too late,” Marco says cheerily. “You call, I come. Be there in like five minutes.” He hangs up, leaving Booker to just sit on the couch and wait.

He hears the motorcycle pull up in front of the safe house not long after (yes, Marco rides a motorcycle, and yes, he makes it look way hotter than it has a right to be). Booker goes to the door and opens it. Marco catches his eye and smiles, and suddenly everything is a lot brighter than it was. 

Marco takes off his helmet and comes jogging over to the door. Before Booker can even get out a ‘hi’, he takes his face in his hands and kisses him, soft and sweet. When he pulls away, he just smiles again and whispers “I’m here.” 

Booker almost breaks down crying then and there. But he manages to usher Marco in and close the door. When Marco sees Jacques, he goes over to the table and gives the bird a gentle scratch. “Hello there, you fine fine lad,” he says.

“You spoil him,” Booker complains. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were only with me for my bird.”

Marco laughs. “He is a handsome bird.” then he smirks. “But nothing could compare to your beauty.”

Booker looks away quickly, hiding his flushed face. “I hate it when you do that,” he mutters. Marco’s grin widens, and then his expression becomes serious. “So what’s going on?”

Booker looks up at him, trying to find the words. They don’t come. The look in his eyes must be enough, for Marco comes over and wraps him up in his arms, holding him tight. Booker lets out a sigh and melts into it, fisting his hands in Marco’s jacket and burying his face in his shoulder. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Marco asks softly. Booker shakes his head. “I don’t think I need a therapist right now,” he says. “I just need you.”

Marco nods silently, before pulling back and taking Booker’s hands in his own. “Come on,” he says quietly. “Cuddle time.” 

Booker doesn’t protest as he’s led toward the couch. Marco sits down and pats the spot next to him. “I won’t bite,” he promises. 

Booker doesn’t just sit. He full on collapses on the couch, curling up on his side with his head in Marco’s lap, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. Marco strokes his hair gently, whispering soft words of reassurance and affection. It feels amazing. 

“You’re alright, mi amor,” Marco whispers. “You’re going to be ok. I promise.” 

Booker doesn’t respond for a couple minutes, content to just stay like this, but then he frowns. “Mi amor. My love.”

“Well, yeah,” Marco says. “You do know I love you, right?”

Booker sits up abruptly. “You do?”

Marco frowns. “I guess I’ve never said it before, but yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Booker is silent for a long time. Marco just watches him, not saying a word. After a minute Booker reaches out and takes the other man’s hand. “I never thought I could fall in love, after I lost my first family,” he admits. “But… Then there’s you. You are… fuck, I hate words. You’re pretty much perfect. And I love you too.”

The smile that Marco gives him could light up the pits of hell. And in this moment, Booker knows. He loves this man. He really does. And he might never be fully whole again, fully recovered from the things he’s seen and done, but he will be okay. Someday.


End file.
